


Mr. Fix-It

by amaronith



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Genre: Anthropomorphism - Freefom, Incest, M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-28
Updated: 2010-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-11 07:09:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaronith/pseuds/amaronith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hello? Yes, there's a problem with my pipes..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Fix-It

**Author's Note:**

> **Content notes:** Incest, gender-play/cross-dressing, mutant turtles being sexy with each other, roleplay? (should I warn for that? Whatever, better safe than sorry, right?).
> 
> **Word Count:** 1,345 according to Microsoft Word
> 
> Written for the "domestic/tradesman kink" square on my kink_bingo card.

Donatello glanced at his cell as it rang. The number was from the pay phone they had in the kitchen for ordering take out. _This is probably Mikey doing some weird prank_, he thought with a sigh as he picked up his shell cell. "Hello?"

There was an oddly feminine voice on the other end of the line, but not one Donnie hadn't heard before. "Hello? Is this Mister Donald Tello of the Tortuga Plumbing Company?"

_Donald? Really, Mikey?_ Donatello shook his head with a grin and decided to play along, "Please, call me Don."

"Right, hi. I'm Mikaela Angelo, and there's this problem with my kitchen sink..."

_Ahh, so that's what this is. Mikey wants to_ play. _Alright..._ "Can you describe the problem, Miss Angelo?"

"The sink is making this weird noise... My brother keeps saying he'll fix it, but he's always off playing hockey with his friends, and Dad's getting on in years..."

_Ooh, a burn on Raph. Might have something to do with the busted game controller he brought to me earlier..._ "I'll be over there as soon as I can, Miss Angelo."

"Thank you so much, Mister Tello."

Donatello hung up with a grin as he got up from his desk chair and headed for his tool kit. _I wouldn't put it past Mikey to have dropped something down there just to add to this silly game..._

–

When Donatello walked into the kitchen, he was wearing his tool belt in place of his usual obi, and his tool box in hand. However, the sight that greeted him made him pause. Michelangelo had taken off his mask and was wearing a flowery print dress instead, with a simple pale green apron over it. Somewhere he had managed to find a pair of pumps that fit his wide feet. Donnie almost wondered why Mikey would run the risk of being caught dressed like this when a startling thought hit him: No one else was in the lair. Leo was out on a training run, Splinter was with April watching some movie or another, and Raph was out with Casey. None of them would be back before dinner, and that was a few hours to go, yet; plenty of time to play. Donatello felt a smirk curl across his mouth before he schooled his expression into something less evil looking. Mikey was wiping down the counter with a soft hum when Donatello cleared his throat. "Miss Angelo?"

"Oh!" Michelangelo's startled noise was kept in character, and Donatello chuckled on the inside.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I'm Don Tello, you called me about your sink?"

"I did. Thank you for getting here so quickly Mister Tello." Mikey smiled at him, relieved, though there was a spark of mischief in those blue eyes.

"It's always my pleasure to help someone in need, Miss Angelo," Donatello smiled back. "Just let me get a look at your sink here, and I'll fix the problem right up for you."

Donatello could feel Mikey's eyes on him as he worked, hot and hungry as he tracked Don's every movement. Mikey had always loved watching Donatello work, whether it was on the Battle Shell, or just on the toaster that kept breaking for Gods knew whatever reason. He said it was just something about how Don's hands could take junk and scrap metal and make something beautiful out of it that made him hard as a rock and ready to have a roll in the sack.

The rattle in the sink had been real enough: somehow a large wing nut and washer had managed to fall down into the sink, along with a couple of screws. "Here's your problem, Miss Angelo: these fell down into the pipes and got caught. You also had some junk build-up, so I cleaned that out for you too."

Mikey clasped his hands together in front of his chest as he gushed. "Oh thank you so much, Mister Tello! I don't know what I would've done if I hadn't thought to call you."

Donatello washed his hands with a chuckle. "It's quite alright, Miss Angelo. Though, please, called me Don."

"Right." Mikey beamed at him before patting down the pockets of his apron, his face shifting into an overdone look of worry. "Oh no…I don't have any cash to pay you with!"

And here's the main event, Donatello thought with an internal chuckle as he took a step toward Michelangelo, backing him slowly against the counter. "That's quite alright, Miss Angelo. I take _all kinds_ of payment."

"Oh...Mister Tello-!" Mikey gasped breathlessly as Don curled his hand over Mikey's jaw.

"Please. Call me Don," he murmured before leaning in to kiss his brother hungrily.

Michelangelo moaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Don and pressing against him. "We don't have a lot of time," he gasped against Donnie's mouth, still in that feminine voice as before. "My brother will be getting home soon, and my father is sleeping upstairs."

_So you want it hard and fast, huh Mikey? Alright…_ Don glanced around for something to use as lube, and pulled the vegetable oil left out on the counter closer to them. "So let's make this quick." He turned Mikey around and hiked the skirt of his dress up, catching a glimpse of his brother's cock, already out of its sheathe and dripping as he lifted Mikey's leg up onto the counter. "You're gagging for it already, aren't you Miss Angelo?"

"C-call me Mikey-!" Michelangelo panted, lifting his tail up invitingly.

Donatello churred and opened the vegetable oil, spilling some over his fingers and onto the floor before pressing his slick finger against Mikey's entrance, then inside with a groan. "You're so tight…"

Mikey moaned loudly, rocking back on Don's finger. "Fuck yes!" he groaned out, dropping the high, feminine voice for his regular one as Donatello removed his finger and thrust his cock inside Mikey with a groan. The bottles and the canisters on the counter shook and rattled as Donatello pounded into him, one hand gripping the lip of Mikey's shell as the other reached around to stroke him roughly. Mikey moaned loudly, biting his lower lip to keep from making noise, keeping up the illusion of having to keep quiet or risk waking his father even as he lifted his hands to brace himself against the cabinets, making the doors rattle as well. It wasn't long before Mikey came with a strangled cry, his come catching on the inside of his dress as Donnie milked him. Donatello thrust into Mikey a few more times before coming himself, his legs shaking before his knees gave out and he dragged Michelangelo to the floor with him with a startled noise.

They lay on the floor panting for several minutes before Donatello gave Michelangelo a flat look. "Donald, Mikey? _Really?_"

Mikey flashed him a mock pout over his shoulder. "Donald is a very dignified name! Besides, Atello just sounds weird as a last name."

"Ah, I see. It was all about aesthetics, huh?" Donatello chuckled, nuzzling his brother fondly.

Michelangelo rolled his eyes before grinning at him. "The key to good roleplay is in the details, Donnie."

Donatello rolled his eyes and got to his feet. "Well then, in that case, since you're obviously some sort of housewife, you can clean up the kitchen."

Mikey batted his eyes up at Donatello. "Dinner will be on the table at six, sweetie, don't forget," he said in that same feminine voice as before.

Donatello leaned down to kiss Mikey's cheek, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Michelangelo looked up at him hopefully. "You mean it?" he asked, his voice back to normal again. "You'll come eat dinner with us at the table and you won't forget?"

Donatello smiled down at his brother, "I promise, Mikey."

Michelangelo's smile was like the sun coming out. "Awesome, dude."

"I'll be in the garage, okay? We can do sexy mechanic next time," Donatello promised as he walked out, chuckling.

Really, sometimes it took so little to make Mikey happy.


End file.
